If this is your first visit, be sure to
check out the FAQ by clicking the
link above. You may have to register
before you can post: click the register link above to proceed. To start viewing messages,
select the forum that you want to visit from the selection below.

Author Name: TheEvilBroomstick
House: Ravenclaw
Title: The Song of Death
Word count: 497
Warnings: Character death

Harry, Ron and Hermione trudged through the muddy undergrowth of the thicket. They had recently discovered an indication from Godric’s Hollow that a horcrux laid in that very forest.
“Just one question, mate,” Ron asked of Harry, “When we find, whatever it is we’re looking for, how will we know that it’s a horcrux?”
“We won’t,” answered Harry absentmindedly.
“Oh,” Ron replied.
“Obviously it will be something worthy to have been made into one,” Hermione stated.
“That really narrows it down,” Ron mumbled sarcastically.
That was the last conversation they had in an hour.
The three of them had all gotten use to the silence of their surroundings – only the sounds of breaking branches and small creatures hurriedly running could be heard – so when the sound of a soft singing came, it wasn’t unusual that they all had jumped.
“What is that?” Harry asked looking for where the source of the noise was coming from.
“Sounds like a bird,” Ron said.
“That’s not just any bird, it’s an Augurey,” Hermione told them excitingly, pointing up to a tree. The two boys looked up in the direction of Hermione’s finger and saw a greenish-black bird. Ron suddenly clasped his hands to his ears and told the others to do the same. Harry hesitated a bit and then slowly brought his hands to his ears. Hermione quickly pushed down his left arm.
“Ron, you’re being silly! Anything you’ve heard about the Augurey is a lie,”
“It is not!” Ron voiced, still not taking his hands away from his ears, “My great uncle Bilius’ best friend’s aunt died when she heard the Augurey’s cry!”
“Maybe it was just coincidence – a bird can’t foretell someone’s death!” Hermione said agitated. Harry just stood there, confused at what they were talking about. He looked back up at the bird and saw that it was staring at him. Harry stared back and found he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. It was really a magnificent bird. Crack!
Harry snapped back to reality and was once again found searching for the source of an unknown noise; although, this time it was much harder since Ron and Hermione were still bickering.
“Shh!” He yelled. Ron and Hermione stopped talking and turned to him questioningly. Harry gave them an annoyed look and took out his wand. The others did the same but didn’t know why. Everything was quiet…
“AVAD-”
“Expelliarmus!” Harry yelled out of instinct, and was glad of it when he noticed that the girl who had jumped out was Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione started on an incantation.
“Avada Kedavra!” came another voice from behind. A bright green flash issued from the stranger’s wand. Ron and Hermione quickly turned around but he had Apparated before they could see whom it was.
“Ahh!” Hermione shrieked. Ron looked down to where she was looking. Harry was peacefully lying on the ground.
The Augurey overhead stared at the crying duo; then took flight as it gently started to rain.

What a week it’s been! I’ve been staying here in the States visiting my aunt and what a time I’ve had. Everything is so similar, yet different.

The Portkey here took much longer than I expected, you told me it would only be five seconds and it was much closer to eight. Anyway, you were right. New York’s Agnomon Square does have its charms, although Diagon Alley will always be my true home. I must say, however, Gladstone and Gibb’s Robe Shop did have the most flattering violet robe I’ve ever seen. And you’ll never guess who I had a shufti with…Maximus Brankovitch! Boy, were you right again; he is rather dishy. The Arrows should definitely do something to get him across the pond.

We took something called the Abraxan Transit back to her house (it’s like our Knight Bus, except it’s only one deck and is really long for some reason) and you’ll never believe these things I saw. They were like monkeys except they were an odd green colour. I was fine and even found them interesting at first, but then it got dark and they would start acting all wonky and these little things on their foreheads would glow. I’m telling you Mallory, it was frightening. The little buggers would hang around the outside of the house, flashing their red lights and screeching from time to time like we’re living in some sort of jungle. It’s been hard to sleep at night; I don’t want those things coming inside and ruining my new robes with their oily skin or fur or whatever they’ve got covering themselves.

My aunt, of course, said they’re “harmless, and they are actually here to help.” Rubbish. She was so confident that she offered to spot me the Galleons if anything were to happen to my things. I don’t know about her or her pickle monkeys, but she needs to get rid of them. I just wish they were illegal so I wouldn’t have to spend my last week here looking over my shoulder. Whatever happened to the common Crup? Anyway, I’m just giving you a heads up. If I don’t return home by next Friday, then I’ve either been captured by those cucumber flashlights or taken to gaol for trying to hex them. I don’t know how their Republic of Magic deals with these kinds of things, but our Ministry wouldn’t have any of it, that’s for sure. See you in a week…hopefully.

Charlie Weasley edged nervously towards the dragon. It was his very first time with a dragon and he was apprehensive. The dragon lifted open one large, scaly eye and surveyed him, ready to attack if he got any closer. It let out a low growl.

Charlie Weasley removed a small object from his pocket and whistled to it. This time the Dragon’s eyes flew open and it stood erect. He gradually walked closer to it till he could see how much damage had been done.

The sight left him shocked.

It’s whole hindlimb was riddled with arrows and blood had caked over it. The dragon was obviously in terrible, terrible pain.

But what could he do? Gently, he started removing the arrows one by one. The dragon calmly looked upon him flinching just a little bit when he had to yank the arrow especially hard to get it out.

And finally every last arrow was out. He wrapped the limb in a thick, white bandage.

‘Rest,’ he told it softly, stroking it’s scales. ‘You’ll need it.’

The dragon laid it’s snout on top of his head as if to bless him before falling asleep, letting out a small flame now and then, through it’s nostrils.

Charlie looked upon the dragon with a smile on his face. Just being with them made it worth it all.

Tilly sat on the beach, rubbing sunscreen on her husband’s back. It was their first vacation in years, and they wanted to relax as much as possible. They decided to come to Ilfracombe because one of her coworkers at the Ministry had a beach house here, and he had told her it was on one of the greatest beaches in all of the United Kingdom.

He was right. The beach had perfect white sand and perfect blue water. Tilly could hardly take her eyes off the water. The sun was starting to set and there were quite a few of late sunbathers out on the beach. She finished with the sunscreen and stowed it in her beach bag. She continued to stare at the gorgeous sunset, but then she noticed something.

A big, black spot in the middle of the sun. It was getting bigger and bigger like it was coming toward the beach. Walking closer to the water, she realized what it was.

A dragon.

“Todd! Todd! Come quick!” she cried out.

“What is it, darling?” her husband asked.

She pointed, speechless to the dragon getting closer.

“Merlin.”

Then they heard a scream of a small boy. The little Muggle child saw the dragon.

“Todd, get everyone to huddle in a circle. Now!”

Todd began to gather people in a circle. The dragon breathed fire, and at the same time, Tilly and Todd whipped their wands out and yelled, “Protego!” A massive shield covered them and the people. The fire bounced off, but Tilly still could feel the heat on her cheek. The dragon flew in a circle and started to come toward the crowd again.

“Todd, use the shield charm again. I’ll try to slow it down with the Conjunctivitis
Curse.” The dragon came closer, and Tilly yelled, “Conjunctiva!”

The dragon stopped flying and hit the ground, his tiny arms trying to reach his eyes. Tilly waved her wand and huge, thick chains shot out and tied the dragon down.

“Angus!” Tilly cried. A beautiful tawny owl appeared out of no where. Tilly walked to her bag and ripped out a piece of parchment from her journal. She quickly wrote a note to the Ministry to come to the beach, and bring in some dragon experts. “Angus,” she whispered, “this needs to get to the Ministry as quickly as possible. Apparate if you have to.” The owl hooted and disappeared.

Suddenly, about twenty people appeared out of no where.

“What’s going on, Tilly?” a short, squat man asked.

“The dragon over there tried to attack people on the beach. Did one of them escape from the dragon habitat in Wales?”

“We don’t know. We have some people coming to look. I know your off duty, but would mind staying and helping erase some of these people’s memories. I’ve also talked to Hilda, the Minister, and she said you might be up for an Order of Merlin, First Class.”

Assistant Head Auror Harry Potter was about to go mad! His green eyes kept shooting death glares at the cage behind him.

'What did I ever do to deserve this?' he thought, running his hand through his already messy hair.

A package had arrived that morning for him, it was a cage with a big ferret inside…or it looked like a ferret. He sat it in his office and wondered why his wife would send him a ferret.

"What happened to you? You like you've just been through a hurricane." a hissing voice said.

A very confused Harry spent the next ten minutes trying to figure out where the voice had come from.

"Not very smart are you?" the voice spoke-up again.

Confusion laced his face when he realized that it was the ferret talking.

"You can talk?" he asked.

"Perceptive one, I see," it quipped.

He had spent the next hour trying to get someone to come and take it away. But, not even the saviour of the wizarding world could get the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to move faster then they wanted to.

So, he spent his office day with a fat, white ferret insulting him every two minutes.

"Were born that stupid or did you acquire it over time?"

"That's it! You're out of here!" Harry yelled, reaching for the cage.

"Un uh, I don't think so. I can only be removed by my sender, four eyes," it hissed at him.

"But…my wife sent you. Why would she… Damn!"

"Oh, did little spike head do or say something stupid and in retaliation got a Jarvey sent to him by his love?"

"I'll be right back…Jarvey."

He walked out of the office leaving the Jarvey alone, looking around at the small but cozy room.

"Gee! What did the man do, take off his glasses to decorate?" the Jarvey asked itself.

Harry reentered the room with a very pregnant woman in dark green robes behind him.

"Make it leave! It's driving me insane!" Harry demanded.

"So, the fat lady is the one who sent me?" the Jarvey hissed at the brown eyed woman.

"See? This is what I've to put up with all day!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes, and I have to deal with you being insensitive the rest of the time!" she yelled.

"She has you there, Hippogriff breath."

"Look, I'm sorry. I never meant to be insensitive to you, love." he tried to calm his wife.

"Yeah, he didn't mean to, it just happens naturally."

"I forgive you, just be a little more aware of my feelings," she sniffed, wiping away the tears that where pouring down her face.

Harry hugged his wife, and she lifted the charm on the cage.

"That's it? He says 'I'm sorry' while looking like a nincompoop and he's off the hook!" the Jarvey hissed.

Harry looked at the Jarvey, that was soon to leave, and whispered, "remind to me never again anger Hermione when she's pregnant."

“Hey, Charlie, wanna see my new pet?” Ron Weasley loomed over his older brother. Charlie Weasley was lying on the couch, reading a battered copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He looked up from his book to see a round, custard colored fur ball resting in Ron’s cupped hands. It was emitting a low, humming noise while a long, pink tongue stuck out of the ball and began licking Ron’s hands for food.
“What the bloody hell is that?”
“It’s my new pet, Patrick the Puffskein! Mum got it for me in Diagon Alley today”
“Great. I wonder what my book has to say about it.”
Ron set Patrick gently down on a nearby table and sat next to Charlie. Charlie filed past the pages before stopping on one particular page with the bold lettering “Puffskein.”
“The Puffskein,” Charlie read out loud. “Harmless... docile... a scavenger. Well, would you look at that. The Puffskein will eat spiders. I think what you have here, Ron, is your solution to ending your arachnophobia. That bugger will eat all the spiders in this house in no time.”
“Wow,” Ron whispered. He darted his head towards the table. “Hey, where’s Patrick? Patrick? Patrick? Where are you boy?”
Ron began to search on the ground on his hands and knees. “Patrick, oh, where can he be?”
Tears were streaming down his face. “I am in huge trouble now.”
Charlie joined in on the search. At that moment, the twins, Fred and George, entered the room, clutching their beaters bats and their broomsticks.
“Did you guys see a Puffskein,” Charlie asked the twins. “Ron lost one. Goes by the name Patrick.”
“You mean that custard colored ball of fluff,” George asked. “Yeah, Fred had one and we used it for Bludger practice. We came back because he knocked it out of the grove we were practicing in.”
“WHAT?!”

A Wedding Gift and A Birthday Present

Mountains of brightly colored boxes teetered on the floor of Mrs. Weasley’s kitchen. Various boxes, all in shiny paper with huge bows, sat on the table. People had brought in heaps of presents to give to Bill and Fleur, and one of the oddest sat on a chair. The wooden bars of the cage, which were as thin as toothpicks, appeared ready to snap at any moment. A little bowl of seeds and water sat on a newspapers that were on the bottom of the cage and now covered in droppings.

The plumage of the bird, its head tucked under its wing, appeared to be the same color as orange, lime, and lemon sherbets mixed together. About the shape and size of a tennis ball, the little avian remained uninterested in its food and continued to doze.

However, the little animal perked up its head as Fleur came upon it. “What will we do with zis thing? Who gave zis to us?”

“Hagrid,” Bill replied as he went over to look at the little animal. “It’s a Fwooper. It’s got a silencing charm on it.”

“I’ve never ‘eard of it,” Fleur remarked as she opened the cage. The little animal hopped onto her dainty, white finger. Then, without warning, it fluttered to her shoulder. She jumped, but soon went to admiring the bird’s pretty colors. ‘It is beautiful,’ Fleur thought at the little animal took an instant liking to its new mistress. ‘I bet it sings beautifully.’
With a wave of her wand, Fleur opened up the mouth of her new pet. The next moment, a deafening sound echoed throughout the kitchen. Fleur fell to the ground, trying to bat the animal off her shoulder. The wail seemed a thousand times worse than a banshee’s wail.

“Tais-toi! Tais-toi!” Fleur shrieked as she clamped her hands over her hears.

“Silencio!” Bill hollered. The little animal’s beak continued moving, but no sound came out. Fleur instantaneously plucked the silent bird from her shoulder and stuffed it back into the cage.

“We sell that zing,” she announced as she ran her hand through her hair. “A Fwooper. My God! What a ‘orrible animal!”

“I told you it had a silencing charm on it,’ Bill said as the little animal pruned its feathers. After it finished its cleaning, the little animal tucked its head back under its wing and continued as if nothing happened.

Title: A Birthday Present
Words: 260
Warnings: None

He unwrapped the paper from the jar sitting on the table. The tag on the outside read, ‘Happy Birthday, brother-in-law. I thought this might be to your taste.’ The fine porcelain and ornate oriental designs on the jar attracted his attention. He studied it, deciding that this gift might be expensive.

He opened the lid and heard a noise from inside. Then, a single orange snake’s head snapped out. The reptile unhinged its jaw and opened its mouth to reveal two sharp fangs. It hissed, and the man withdrew his hand. However, the animal got restless inside, and the jar swiveled and tipped. The find porcelain cracked into several pieces as it crashed to the floor.

A three-headed snake with the colorings of a tiger began to move jerkily across the floor. “Oh . . .” the man muttered to himself as he drew his wand. The one head kept hissing while one of the heads struggled to move towards him.

“Petrificus Totalus! “Petrificus Totalus! “Petrificus Totalus!” The man steadied his hand as he cast the spell three times to stop each head. With a sigh of relief, he went over and stomped upon each frozen head.

A beautiful blond woman walked into the room. She looked at her husband, and in a bored voice asked, “What was that noise?”

“Tell your sister not to send deadly animals a presents,” the man hissed as he kicked away the remains of the runespoor.

“Really, Lucius, you shouldn’t be ungrateful,” Narcissa said with a sigh. “I told Bella you would like it.”

Several Muggles cramped around the Loch Ness cried out in surprise and excitement. However, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was not excited at all. This particular Muggle tour, Let’s search for the Loch Ness Monster, was an agony to Firth, the head of the department. Every year it had to be held – which meant every year he, with his junior partner Stroud, had to find a way to hide the humungous kelpie.

Mixed in with the excited tourists from all over the world, Firth and Stroud secretly performed memory charms on the lucky Muggles who saw the kelpie.

‘Bloody hell,’ said an exhausted Stroud loudly, ‘why can’t we hire people to keep performing these spells?’

Suddenly, the so-called Loch Ness Monster jumped in the air, as if to show off it’s skills. The two silently cursed themselves for not stunning the kelpie – that was, of course, not effective since the kelpie would happen to float on the surface of the lake, but the two secretly thought it would be much, much easier than putting two hundred memory charms on twenty Muggles each year.

Stroud reached for his wand, but he tripped over his coat hem – he wasn’t used to Muggle clothing, and fell over. At the same time, his wand disappeared into the black, deep waters of the lake.

Letting out a loud sigh of annoyance, Firth attempted to reach for his colleague’s wand.

And the next movement happened all very slowly. Firth fell head first into the Loch Ness, grabbing a Muggle girl as he went down. The girl’s parents reached for their beloved daughter, at the same time falling into the lake as well. The guide attempted to save the people, but knocking down several people in his hurry, the number of people in the Lake increased.

So, suddenly but slowly, the entire tour began to fall – literally, into the Loch Ness.

And a few days later, both Firth and Stroud found themselves among the massed ranks of the unemployed…

Fred searched through an old, rusty hinged trunk feverishly. He threw an old Keepers glove, a punctured Quaffle and a fluorescent green tennis ball aside before reaching the bottom of the trunk,

“George, George!” he called, raising his voice to be heard out of the rusty tin shed he was currently in. “George, have you seen my Bludger?”

“No,” came George’s voice, floating nearer as he crossed the large, weedy Weasley lawn. “Remember? It died when we hit it into Old Man Patterson’s paddocks. He’s probably mistaken it for a large, round cow pat by now.”

He appeared at the door and smiled down at his freckled, dusty twin who was scowling beneath the layer of grime that coated his sweaty face. Evidently, he’d been looking for this Bludger for a long time. He chuckled, and turned to go.

Fred picked up a moth bitten Keepers gloves and threw it at his head. “Oi, you help me find one!”

George chuckled again, raising his fiery eyebrows. “We-ell,” he debated, “I do know where we can find something lightly resembling a Bludger.” He wiggled his eyebrows convincingly and set off up to the house.

----

Fred delightedly rummaged through Ron’s draws, searching. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he took to the bookshelves. He groaned in frustration when he didn’t find it there and then flumped down on the violent orange bed.

George came into the door, tutting at the mess Fred had made. “Well, did you find it?”

Fred glowered. “No, Sherlock. Come help.”

George raised his eyebrows. “Well, it might be a little easier if you got off the poor creature,” he said, motioning to the bed.

Fred pulled a fluffy, custard looking creature from out underneath his buttocks. A long tongue was protruding, searching for any crumbs on his trousers. It slowly curled back into an invisible mouth, and a small ‘burp’ broke the disbelieving silence.

Fred grinned hellishly, and squeezed the fluffy ball between his fingers as he chuckled. “Puffskein, George?” All he got was a bemused shake of the head from his twin.

“Right, George, off to practice.”

----

Ron toddled out into the backyard to watch his brothers play Quidditch. He had his fingers caught in a sticky trap, and had his tongue out, his freckly face screwed up in concentration. He caught sight of Fred and George practicing Quidditch and delightedly ambled over to join them.

“Mummy… Mummy said you borrowed Wiggy,” he said, frowning up and Fred and George as they hovered above him on their broomsticks. They exchanged glances; then George threw something to Fred.

“Alright, into the paddock, Fred!” He watched it soar over the posts at the end of the garden. “Fred! Puffskein’s fly better than Bludgers! We should suggest that to McGonagall!”

Ron’s lip trembled. “Wiggy…,” he puffed out his bottom lip, “… MUMMY!” He ran screaming into the Weasley kitchen.

As Tom Riddle stormed out of the door, Dumbledore couldn’t help feeling like he would never see Tom Riddle like this ever again. That man had already crossed the line into the Dark Arts, and it didn’t seem as though he was planning to stop. Dumbledore sighed.

Turning to Fawkes, he asked the bird, “Did I do the right thing? Maybe if I had allowed him to take the Defense against the Dark Arts position, he would’ve stopped his path to evil. Maybe he would have been content.”

Fawkes looked at him and sang a clear, ringing note. Dumbledore sighed.

“He could have been a great – truly great – wizard. He would have been better than me; there’s no doubt of that. There was so much potential, but he drowns himself in the past, only wanting revenge for the wrongs done to him. Now, he’s dangerous.”

Dumbledore didn’t know whether he was talking to himself or Fawkes anymore. “I have to know where he is – that way, I can find out what he’s doing at all times. I need to watch him – or we won’t be ready when he gains power among people.”

Fawkes hooted again, and Dumbledore turned to him in surprise. “Fawkes?” Suddenly he could feel Fawkes inside his mind.

Dumbledore's eyes widened. He knew that phoenixes had powers as Legilimens and Occlumens – it was one of the reasons that they valued loyalty so much. They could truly see it in people, and true loyalty was rare.

But Fawkes, in his five years with the Headmaster, had never used it. Images flashed through his head. A phoenix tailfeather – Ollivander making a wand – the wand in a box – Fawkes himself – Tom Riddle getting a wand from Ollivander’s. The images stopped abruptly.

Running a hand down the phoenix’s soft feathers, he smiled. “Thank you, Fawkes.”

The final image Fawkes put into Dumbledore’s head was a picture of Fawkes flying into blazing white fire at a funeral in front of a grieving audience, including a black-haired, green-eyed boy with a lightning shape scar, scarlet against his pale forehead.

Dumbledore didn’t know what that meant, but he could feel the love and loyalty that accompanied the picture.